


Dance with Me Tonight

by sailsandanchors



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (hello clint), F/M, M/M, Multi, Sam POV, again mostly not the sexy kind, and drinking, and tipsy attempts to makeout, mostly not the sexy kind, steve and sam are roommates and there is pining, steve/sam is the main focus, the rating may change, there will be dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2115300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailsandanchors/pseuds/sailsandanchors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"You telling me you've got moves now?" Sam teased and elbowed him lightly. He was waiting for the customary smirk and shrug in response. </em>
  <br/><em>He didn't expect Steve to lean closer and smile, lips slightly pursed, a single eyebrow quirking in a way that went straight to Sam's dick.</em>
</p>
<p>Sam is up for the challenge of hosting a party. However, there are bound to be complications when the Avengers are anywhere near alcohol and Sam isn't even counting his crush on a certain Captain, who also happens to be his roommate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam had been fiddling with his bow tie, trying to get the knot right for the past ten minutes. If he was honest with himself he was really just standing in front of the mirror calculating the chances he'd still have a home by the end of the night. He was about to host a party that could turn into an intergalactic diplomatic incident, the irony being they'd just saved the world from an intergalactic diplomatic incident and were now celebrating with a party. 

Saving the world can be tough, but he's seen his life flash before his eyes far more frequently when he's drinking with the Avengers. He'd still have a blast, but the chances of an actual blast happening were slightly worrying.  Just when he'd found the perfect couch too. 

And he couldn't tie the damn knot. A soft chuckle interrupted his dissent into despair.

"You're doing it wrong." Steve was leaning on the door frame, smiling.

His hair was slicked back, darker, and the suit of his jacket was missing somewhere in the apartment, no doubt keeping the tie he wasn't wearing company.

"You've not finished dressing." Sam accused him, relaxing into a smile despite himself.

Steve shrugged and tilted his head, smirking, managing to be both infuriating and infuriatingly attractive. The rolled up sleeves didn't help. 

"Want me to?" He came closer. Steve had that look about him. The one Sam could never say no to.

He folded his arms and huffed, grinning. "Fine. Do your best old man."

"Well we'll just have to see what these wrinkled old fingers can muster, son." Steve said, patting him on the shoulder a little harder than necessary, before going to work on the bow tie. 

Steve was close and for a couple of moments Sam didn't know quite where to look. He didn't often feel awkward and unsure, but lately it kept happening around Steve. He prided himself in figuring out people and he usually had an easy time telling if someone was into him, but Steve had a bad habit of looking at people like they were the most important person in the world to him. And he was a flirt. Sam had just filed everything and anything between them as wishful thinking on his part. It was mostly for his own good. Because if he thought he had a chance he might do something stupid like kiss Steve. Or declare his undying love over lunch one day.

Between regretting his life choices and trying to control his breathing, it took a couple of seconds for Sam to realize Steve was taking his sweet time with that bow tie.

"Need some help helping me, Steve?" He looked up from Steve's fumbling hands to quirk an eyebrow at him and that was a definite mistake. His smirk turned into a soft intake of breath when he saw how close their faces were. Steve was looking down at him, his eyes falling to Sam's lips and lingering for the shortest time, so brief that Sam convinced himself he'd imagined it. Because now Steve's brow was furrowed in concentration and his lips, still a step away from Sam's, were set in an earnest pout. 

"Shut up, this was easier with small fingers..." He huffed and bit his lip.

Steve was helping him out and all Sam could think about was pinning him against the wall and messing up his perfect hair. It would have been nice if he'd admitted to himself that he had this ridiculous crush before agreeing to move in with Steve. As if four months on the road hadn't been hard enough. 

A few pulls and tucks later, the bow tie was finally in place and Steve smiled down at him. "Ready. Not bad for an old man." 

Sam faced the mirror and straightened his suit jacket, whistling.

"I look even better than usual!" He turned side to side, checking himself out.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve rolling his eyes, but the tips of his ears were turning crimson. Sam smirked and swerved to check out his ass again. Yup. The 20's theme was definitely a good idea, despite Tony's threatening promise of providing all the alcohol by making it himself. He shuddered.

"You got the music ready?" Sam asked, finally turning away from his reflection. They still had a few things to sort out before people started arriving.

This whole party came to be because of a stack of old records Sam found at a flea market. They were two bucks so he hadn't really thought much of it and bought them with Steve on his mind. They were still setting up the place and Steve had brought the record player from his old apartment. They sat among the boxes on the floor, sunlight coming through the windows, and listened to them. Sam had not expected to love the almost unrelenting, repetitive music that flooded their living room as much as he did. Maybe it had something to do with the relaxed smile of his roommate as he sat there bobbing his head to the beat, light catching his blond hair.

A couple of weeks ago they'd almost died and saved each other for the billionth time. It had become a way to celebrate being alive: an unspoken tradition to get plastered together on Tony's booze. Steve insisted they have them over to their new apartment now that they were in New York. He waited for cuts and bruises to heal and then started writing out invitations. Since that was already more formal than they ever arranged these things, Sam introduced Steve to the notion of themed parties. A 20's night.

After all, Sam liked the music.


	2. Chapter 2

The doorbell rang while they were still trying to locate Steve's tie. Steve was going through his wardrobe and Sam was peering under the bed. They rushed to the door when it rang a second time, bumping into each other as they reached for the door. Steve closed his hand around the handle with a triumphant laugh and swung the door open. He came face to face with a gun. Then things happened too fast. Sam felt Steve push him behind him, standing between him and the weapon. There was a spurting sound and he heard Steve let out a disgruntled sigh.

"Damn it, Tony." Steve stepped to the side, wiping at his waistcoat and Sam saw Tony standing in their doorway, a shit-eating grin on his face and a rigged out tommy gun in his hand.

"Don't worry, it's just vodka," he said and slapped Steve on the arm. He looked like a gangster from an old noir from his toothpick down to his spats. He poked his hat up at Sam and handed him a bottle. "Chateau de Stark 2014!"

Pepper appeared behind him, shinning up at them. Her flapper dress was made out of tiny little crystals that moved in a manner that was very difficult to look away from.

"I wouldn't put a drop of that anywhere near my person," she said, walking in and kissing Sam on the cheek. "He made it in the basement." Sam could actually hear the eye-roll in her voice. The bottle of clear liquid in his hand now seemed far more fascinating, in a terrifying sort of way.

"I understood as much from his terrible French," Steve said. "Please tell me it's not what you've soaked me with?"

"Yes! Made the whole thing myself!" He waved the gun about. "It even keeps it chilled!"

"I noticed." Steve looked at him pointedly. "Is it going to eat through my clothes?" 

There were a couple of ways that could go that weren't an entirely terrible notion, but Sam was relieved when Tony jumped into an offended tirade about quality control and no smoke seemed to be coming off the wet patch on Steve's torso. He wondered what it tasted like. The vodka. What the vodka tasted like.

"Sorry we're early. Someone was very excited to test out his new toys on live targets," she smirked at Tony. Pepper must have noticed Steve's lack of tie, or was just annoyed at not being punctual. It answered the baffling question as to why Tony Stark had arrived early to a party. 

They helped set up everything before the others arrived. That is Pepper found Steve's tie next to the cheese platter and Tony spent his time going through their record collection, making disapproving sounds. Sam hoped he hadn't messed up Steve's playlist.

Natasha crossed their doorway exactly on time, with a bottle of wine and her two boyfriends. Bucky and Clint seemed to be at opposite ends of the intensity spectrum, and it worked, whatever it was they had. They were wearing different sizes of exactly the same three-piece suit. Clint was missing his tie and Natasha her shirt, but Sam didn't think anyone would have a problem with the historical inaccuracies. Bucky certainly didn't seem to mind.

Steve's eyes lit up when he saw them across the room. He play-wrestled Bucky into a hug, looking like an enormous child who got to see his best friend after coming home from summer camp. They'd seen each other less than 5 hours ago and it made Sam smile. It hadn't been that long ago since they returned with him. 

Steve put the first record on and a slow, easy song filed the apartment as they gathered in the living room and settled down for a drink. Sam wasn't sure they should have left Tony next to the drinks' cabinet, but he had guests ringing the doorbell. 

Sharon and Rhodey beamed at him as he opened the door, then smiled at each other, then looked at their feet. Subtle. 

"Hey! We ran into each other on the way up! Nice suit!" He had to give Sharon some credit for kicking into agent-lying-her-ass-off mode, but they were really both horrible at this. It didn't help their story that Tony saw them from across the room and lifted his glass, winking at Rhodey. Sam took their gifts, a bottle of scotch each, both of which came from a little shop across from Rhodey's apartment. Sharon was supposed to be an agent! He caught Natasha smiling to herself when she saw them. He'd bet his couch that she'd orchestrated the whole thing.

By their second drink they were already playing Action Hero of the Mission!(trademark pending), a very important part of any party. It usually revolved around two things: coolest kill and most gruesome injury. Tony tried to push for a thruster pulse that tore through the bulk head of one alien ship, making it fall to the sea in seconds, but he was competing with Clint who did the exact same thing using two arrows.

It seemed like Bucky would win the injury round with two lacerations and a dislocated shoulder, but Sharon kept pointing out it shouldn't count since he was fine a couple of days later. Taking that into account, the blaster that grazed her shoulder and a split lip would have put her in the lead. Natasha backed her up, which earned her a scowl from Bucky. She just shrugged and winked at him. Then there was a series of brow arches and heated glares between them that made Clint grin and the rest of the room clear their throats awkwardly. Sam did not want to know.

Last to arrive were Jane and Thor, with Bruce in tow. He and Jane were talking about something Sam couldn't even begin to understand and judging by their appearance, they had probably remembered they had somewhere to be about a half hour after they were supposed to be there. Thor was in a T-shirt and a waistcoat. He actually made it look good. 

They might have been late but they had brought nice beer and that was far preferable to coming early and bringing a clear liquid you swore was vodka because you made it yourself. However, Thor had also brought mead, he always seemed to have it, which meant that Chateau de Stark was in for a bit of competition. It wasn't an Avengers party until someone was drunk off their ass on Asgardian mead.

The music began to swing in a faster direction. One that commanded movement.

And so it started. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is loved and appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

"Is she someone I know?" Sam asked, sipping on a cocktail and trying very hard not to seem eager for an answer. Rhodey had been asking for relationship advice, trying his hardest to seem vague.  


"Is it important?" Rhodey said, evading like a master.

"I don't know, I've found it's kind of hard keeping a relationship when you deal with the kind of shit we do. Shared life experience goes a long way, man." Sam had a sudden sense of déjà vu.

"I think she gets it. It's just... It's all kind of new and I don't want to mess things up." Rhodey rubbed the back of his neck, a small smile playing on his lips. Shit. Sam knew that look. He didn't know it yet, but he was in love.

"Just be honest with her. Find out what she wants. And don't take any advice from Tony." 

"Why do you think I'm talking to you?" Rhodey smirked, looking over to his friend. Tony was flanked by Jane and Bruce and they were babbling on about some experiment, the glasses in their hands coming very close to spilling as they moved them excitedly around. He'd left Pepper completely to her own devices, but she didn't seem to have a problem. Thor had her in his arms and she was showing him a few easy steps, as their significant others threatened the integrity of Sam's carpet.

He saw Steve and Sharon out of the corner of his eye. She was blushing about something and Sam smirked. No doubt Steve was having a similar conversation. He and Sharon had grown closer after bumping into each other a few times at Peggy's care home. He wondered if Sharon was more forthcoming about the identity of her romantic connection.

Clint, Natasha and Bucky danced by them, somehow making it look like every dance was made to be performed by three people. They were certainly showing Thor and Pepper up. There was no awkwardness there, just effortless precision and bodies fitting together, moving around each other without a step out of beat. 

Sam barely registered the question."Have you got anyone special in your life?" He had to fight the urge to look around the room for Steve.

"Nah. Been too busy saving your ass. Your very heavy ass." A blast had disabled Rhodey's thrusters mid-air and he'd ejected, barely giving Sam any warning that he needed assistance.

"I bet you say that to all the boys, Sam. You know, if you'd let me drop, I'd definitely win most impressive injury over Sharon." There was an unmistakable fondness in his voice when he got to her name.

"It would have made a lovely eulogy." Sharon said smirking, as she and Steve materialized next to them. The cockiness didn't reach her eyes.

"Sharon, our boy here needs advice about a girl. Can you help him out?" Sam tried his best not to laugh out loud when her eyes widened. He could only imagine Rhodey's face.

"Girl troubles, Jim?" Steve asked with sincerity, but Sam suspected he was being evil.

"No. Just trying not to mess up a good thing." Rhodey said, looking at his drink and smiling to himself. 

"I'm sure you're fine. You could charm your way out of anything." Sharon said, pursing her lips.

"I can charm my way into even better things," Rhodey said with a wink and a smirk. Sam felt the need to excuse himself and a quick glance at Steve revealed he wasn't alone.

"Steve, want me to mix you up something?" He waved his almost empty cocktail glass in the air. "Guys?"

Sharon and Rhodey were barely paying him any attention when they shook their heads.

"See you on the dance floor, Sam." Rhodey said, smiling and offering his arm to Sharon. "Would you care to join me?"

Sam and Steve walked over to the drinks' cabinet and stood there for a second side by side, looking over an array of half-empty bottles without saying a word.

Steve poured out two shots of Asgardian mead and they clinked glasses, downing them in one go. That was probably a mistake.

" _Well_." Sam exclaimed and they grinned at each other.

"I can't believe they think they're fooling anyone." Steve murmured in his ear, chuckling. A small current traveled down Sam's back and he elected to ignore it.

"Oh, you noticed?" Sam grinned, reaching for a bottle.

"They've been trying to avoid each other all night, but they keep searching for one another across the room. Doesn't take a genius."

"Sharon told you didn't she," Sam said, tilting his head.

"Sharon confirmed my suspicions," Steve huffed. "I mean when he was talking to you Jim looked almost as nervous as I did back in the day." 

"Were you really that bad?" Sam turned towards him, amused and curious. 

"I was terrible, ask Bucky. Could hardly speak, couldn't dance... I was not a good date." Steve said, shaking his head.

"You telling me you've got moves now?" He teased and elbowed him lightly. He was waiting for the customary smirk and shrug in response. 

He didn't expect Steve to lean closer and smile, lips slightly pursed, a single eyebrow quirking in a way that went straight to Sam's dick.

"Maybe." Steve said, and his smile turned into a smirk as he grabbed another bottle. Their sides were flush against each other and Sam couldn't breath. There was warmth radiating off Steve in waves, he smelled of mead and their laundry detergent, but Sam's clothes had never made him want to bury his face in them and moan. He tried to regulate his breathing as he poured out a drink. He was sure he had wanted something specific, but at the moment he couldn't quite remember what it was. He wasn't entirely sure what he was pouring out either. He could feel Steve's eyes on him and suddenly he was reliving a million little moments like this. Lingering touches in motels. Shared grins that faded into small smiles over the sound of the radio as the road spread out before them. Heated glances in training. Moments they never talked about and he was used to forgetting. Steve fixing his bow tie.

The music changed again, but he wasn't really paying attention.

Sam held his breath and slowly moved his hand towards Steve's. Their pinkies brushed against each other and in an instant the entire world vanished away, dim and inconsequential, because Steve had linked his finger over Sam's. It seemed like forever and was over too soon. 

Rhodey came back to get a drink for him and Sharon and they broke apart. 

Sam felt the corners of lips go up and a big, ridiculous, dazzling, gap-toothed smile spread over his face. His skin was buzzing like it couldn't contain his body and he wanted to fly. He turned to Steve and his smile got even wider when he saw the blush that was spreading over his face. 

A hand wrapped around his wrist and his heart jumped, but the fingers were cool and slender. 

"Isn't it about time you joined us on the dance floor?" Natasha tightened her grip and suddenly they were both being dragged front and center.

Steve made a strange sputtering sound, but didn't dig his heels in and Sam just laughed, stumbling forward as she swung him around. He fell right into Clint, who took Sam in his arms with surprising fluidity given his alcohol intake at that point in time. They proceeded to dance around the living room like children who were just coming to grips with the concept of coordination and wanted to put on a show. Nobody, including themselves, had any idea who was leading and there was dip after ridiculous dip, both their faces repeatedly coming very close to the floor.

"Relax." Sam heard Natasha say to Steve. His hands rested around her waist and he was mouthing something to her, smiling.

"If you don't know how to dance just pretend she's your shield or something!" Clint shouted and spun Sam around, almost knocking him into the coffee table. 

"Nat, should I throw you and aim for his head?" Steve asked loudly, cocking an eyebrow and Natasha punched his shoulder, an amused look on her face.

"Just stop thinking about it and act." Natasha said in a lowered voice as he and Clint danced past them. Steve nodded and straightened his shoulders. "Now dance with me, you idiot." Natasha commanded with a grin and they started moving together to the fast rhythm of brass keys. They were good.

So good that everybody started to take notice. Though Steve dancing was also a probable reason, since he never danced that much at parties. He maybe swayed a bit and bobbed his head. This was something different. Sam was sure he'd remember seeing him move like that. The underlying power and danger that his body exuded even when standing completely still was there, but there was something gentle about the way he moved, loose, like he no longer carried the weight of the world.  

Then Steve rolled his hips, a small, imperceptible roll, and Sam almost tripped over his own feet. 

"Steady, dude! Had a bit too much?" That was rich coming from Clint Barton, resident lightweight, and he wasn't about to admit that he  _was_  intoxicated, but alcohol had nothing to do with it.

Because that was just a ridiculous thing to say.


	4. Chapter 4

A tango started and all it took was a well executed lift from Steve for Tony to decide that this was his chance to prove he was better than him at something. Apparently Pepper was just as terrible. One look across the room and she quickly excused herself and met Tony in the middle. He smirked and offered her a rose no one knew where he managed to get from. They were impressive. More than impressive. Even Natasha looked on in awe.

Which of course meant that two second later everybody rushed to one up them. It was an all out war. Alliances were being formed in the blink of an eyeand people were downing shots after every successful trick. 

Thor seemed all too happy to have Jane in his arms. Banner waved her off, a bemused expression on his face. As usual he remained the smartest person in the room. Sharon had the look of a woman determined to succeed and Sam sincerely hoped Rhodey could keep up. Clint was to be found slinking down Bucky's leg, while Natasha hung upside down, supported by his metal arm, and poured him a shot. 

Sam was left without a partner and Steve was walking towards him with long, purposeful strides. 

"Want to dance with me, Sam?" Steve was flushed, his hair falling in his eyes. This felt like the first days of training when he was itching to jump off something and terrified of the fall.

"Are you good enough to keep up with these assholes?" Sam smirked and shrugged. His heart was beating too loudly. Too fast. "Otherwise I think I'll have to see what Bruce is up to." He was glad that his eyes travelling the length of Steve's body didn't seem like a cardinal sin anymore. God, he was glad. "Though I did hear you might have moves."

"Yeah?" Steve quirked an eyebrow. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes. Then suddenly he was closer and for a heartbeat Sam thought he was going to kiss him. He did something far worse. Fingers traced their way around his waist and Steve murmured something in his ear, his voice deeper than it had any right to.

"Dude." He didn't mean for it to come out as a groan. "Was that fucking French?"

Steve just laughed and wrapped his arms around him. "Dance with me?" he asked, as if the answer wasn't obvious. And then it dawned on Sam that it really wasn't obvious to Steve. He was smiling down at Sam, but nervous uncertainty wouldn't let the corners of his lips go all the way up. He wanted to kiss that doubt away. For now he'd settle for dancing.

He circled his arms around Steve's waist. "Let's do our worst, Rogers."

He didn't expect them to actually do their worst. He was wrong. They were still dancing around each other, this time in a rather literal and tragic fashion. 

They couldn't decide who was supposed to lead, like two strangers in a narrow hallway, trying to let the other pass first and not succeeding, full of apologies. Knees bumped together, feet were tread on and rhythm was a problem they had yet to pay any attention to. It was a rough start. It would have been rougher if Sam's grandma hadn't insisted that everyone in the family should learn how to dance 'proper' dances, by partnering them up under her strict tutelage. Of course, Steve was nothing like cousin Beth and that was part of the issue. 

No, Steve Rogers was tall and broad and everywhere and he kept looking down at Sam with those blue eyes, biting his lips every time they fumbled. As if that helped the situation. He didn't know quite where to hold Steve, the treacherous hand that was splayed on Steve's back kept wanting to slip lower. Grams would definitely not approve of that and he wasn't sure about Steve. 

Sam hadn't felt so out of sync with his own body since he was twelve.

"I can't believe people's lives depend on us." Sam muttered after he stepped on Steve for what felt like the millionth time. Steve chuckled, leaning closer, his grip on Sam tightening as his body began to shake with laughter. They stayed like that, Steve trying to muffle his laughter on Sam's shoulder and Sam trying not to explode. And then Steve tread on his toes, again, and they both lost it. "The world is doomed!" Sam declared picking Steve up and twirling him in the air, breathless. He was heavy as hell, but Sam just kept on spinning them around until his arms gave way and Steve crashed down on top of him. 

It was surprising, but they managed to not end up on an undignified heap on the floor. Steve caught him and held him in place, the distance of their bodies gone in one glorious fuck up of a maneuver. Sam traced his index finger over Steve's palm and linked their hands together. He raised them to their side, taking a step forward. Steve took a step back. They grinned at each other, small, shy grins, and started moving again. It was better. Rhythm certainly wasn't a problem anymore. The feeling of Steve moving along with him was unreal.

Then Steve smirked and looked at him in a very familiar way. He had the infuriating expression that Sam had grown to read as a warning that Steve was about to jump off something a million miles in the air without a parachute on. "Steve, don't you d..." 

Muscle memory was the only way he could explain the fact that he managed to catch Steve as he arched headfirst into a drop. He twisted and reached to support Steve's goddamn neck, while his other arm curved around Steve's waist, holding him in place. Steve still had that smirk on him, so he pulled him up and crushed him close, just to see him gasp. His lips parted and his eyes went wide for a second before darting to Sam's lips. With his fingers curled around Steve's neck, all Sam had to do was...

"Nice to see you finally join the party, boys!"

There was nothing like Tony Stark offering shots to ruin a moment. Steve was glaring daggers at him, and despite his irritation, Sam was amused to see that Pepper was also sending Tony exasperated looks, ones he was ignoring with practiced ease.

Instead of responding, Steve reached for the drinks, downed both of them, slammed them on a stool and then turned to Sam and gave him that look again, with the added flourish of a clenched, stubborn jaw. Sam just smiled and lifted him, before kneeling to the floor on one leg and draping Steve over him. Steve moved up and spun behind him, resting his hands on Sam's shoulders, before letting them smooth their way down his chest. Sam arched an eyebrow and fought to control his breathing. 

"You're on, flyboy!" Tony said, straightening his shoulders and winking. Sam got to his feet and leaned back against the firm certainty of Steve. Arms circled his waist and he'd be quite happy to just stand there, especially since it looked like his future was filled with heavy lifting his back wasn't exactly sure he could handle. Tony was about to say something, when Natasha sailed by and flicked his ear, Bucky flicked the other one and Clint slapped his ass. Pepper tried to hide her laughter behind the palm of her hand and was failing miserably. 

"Foul! That was a foul!" Tony turned to Bruce, who was munching on a cheese cracker and refusing to get involved. It was then that Sam noticed they were the only ones left dancing. Thor and Jane were on his couch next to Bruce, Thor's feet hanging over the side as he lay with his head on Jane's lap, completely enamored with whatever she was saying. Sharon and Rhodey were nowhere to be found, and Sam couldn't blame them. He just hoped they'd gone for the fire-escape rather than one of the bedrooms.

"Accept defeat, Tony." Natasha drawled, as Clint lifted her off her feet, his feet wobbling. 

"You're outnumbered." Bucky smirked from behind Clint as he held both his partners in place. His eyes had a glazed look about them, which meant it was a miracle Clint hadn't dropped dead from alcohol poisoning.

"Bruce!" Tony called out, almost petulant. "Bruce, who's the best?"

Bruce wiped some crumbs off his shirt and looked up. "Pepper." 

Tony gasped. "Bruce, where is the love, buddy? Where is the love?!" he cried out, clutching a hand over his heart. Bruce just shrugged with amusement at the perceived betrayal. Tony waved him off with a pout and turned to Pepper, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles. "He's not wrong, cupcake."

"I know." Pepper smiled and gave Tony a small kiss, then grinned at Bruce. "You're my favorite too, Bruce!"

"I'm surrounded by traitors!" Sam missed whatever it was that Tony said next, because Steve rested his head on his shoulder, hugging him closer, Sam's back flush against his solid chest.

"Hey," Steve whispered,lightly bumping their heads together.

Sam smiled.

"Hey, right back at you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hello on [tumblr](http://captainofalltheships.tumblr.com/)


End file.
